Midnight Badgers

 

In the leafy dark lane
We wait scarce breathing,
Till out of the owly night
Comes the clatter of claws

Like iron on the metal road.

 

Fat bear pigs,
Snorting and grunting,
Running and playing,
Boneless on over-stuffed legs,

Steel gleam of black barred heads.

 

They tumble turn
At our feet like swimmers,
And clatter in panic
Back up the lane.

Wild midnight badgers!

 

Alan Brown
Copyright © Alan Brown 2000